


Pretty Women and How to Love Them

by constellation_nation



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, LGBTQ Themes, Mentions of Sex, Mentions of homophobia, Slow Burn, Talk about Sexuality, bisexual Queenie Goldstein, eventual Seraphina/Queenie, sister relationship, supportive Tina
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-30
Updated: 2017-02-06
Packaged: 2018-09-13 08:02:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 14,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9114202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/constellation_nation/pseuds/constellation_nation
Summary: Queenie just wants to have fun and fall in love, and Tina will support her sister no matter what.  Unfortunately, it's not just any woman who's caught her eye... (bisexual Queenie with a Queenie/Seraphina [president of MACSUA] relationship slow burn)





	1. Promise You'll Be Careful

**Author's Note:**

> Tina comes home from a long day of work and finds Queenie has brought yet another girl home.

Tina Goldstein marched up the steps to her apartment, fumbling in her pocket for her key.  She was tired and stiff and embarrassed.  Her first day in the wand permit office had been humbling, to say the least.  The goblin in the elevator no longer smiled at her when she asked for the fifth floor.  The witches and wizards who came in made little small talk and barely looked her in the eye.  She had gone from highly respected, even revered, to entirely unwanted.  Now all she wanted to do was take a bath and forget.

As Tina shuffled out of her coat, she heard a high, breathy giggle coming from the bedroom: she’d recognize her sister’s voice anywhere.  A few thumps later the sound became a duet, another woman’s voice, slightly lower, joining in the chorus.  Tina loudly kicked off her shoes and the sound abruptly stopped.  They were being quiet.  Too quiet.

Tina scowled.  She rapped her knuckles on the door to Queenie’s room.

“Teenie, is that you?” Queenie asked.  She was out of breath, which only made Tina’s frown deepen.

“Yes, Queenie,” she sighed.  “Can I have a word with you?”   


There were the sounds of bedsprings creaking and feet landing on the floor.  “Sure thing honey, just give me a second.”

Tina tapped her foot, her arms folded tightly across her chest.  She had been patient with her sister.  She loved Queenie more than anything in the world, would gladly give her life for her, but tonight she was just too exhausted to deal.  She couldn’t keep doing this.

Queenie opened the door just enough to slip out, but Tina caught a glimpse of a pretty dark-haired woman lounging on Queenie’s bed before her sister could close the door.  Tina gave her a look.

“I know you’re mad at me,” Queenie said, crossing over to the drying rack by the fire.  She waved her wand and a pink satin robe rose in the air, wrapping itself around Queenie’s delicate frame.  It didn’t cover much more than the slip she had been wearing, and Tina found herself wondering why she even bothered at all.  Queenie was known to parade around their apartment in nothing but her underwear.  A short robe was almost conservative.

“I’m not  _ mad _ ,” Tina tried.

Queenie shook her head.  “Yeah, yeah, you’re concerned and all that, I get it.”

Tina crossed to her sister, putting a hand on her shoulder.  Queenie turned away from the fire to look at her, her face slightly flushed.  Her eyes were wide.  Tina couldn’t help but think that they looked a little sad.  For all the smiles and laughs her sister gave, there was something much deeper that she desperately tried to push back.

“I’m not sad,” Queenie insisted.

“Stop reading my mind.”

“You’re thinking about me, I can’t help it.”

The two women stared at each other.  There was an understanding that passed between them often, silently, whenever they locked eyes.  For the rest of the world, Tina had to be strong and apathetic and professional.  Queenie was always ditsy and happy, pure light, pure warmth.  Only when they were alone together did the sisters let that drop away.  It was hard sometimes.  They felt lonely and lost and sad.  Existing could become a struggle.  They understood that for each other in a way that didn’t require words.

“I’m sorry you had a hard day, sweetie,” Queenie said, her voice soft.  She brought her hand up to her shoulder, covering Tina’s.  “Let me say goodbye to my friend and I’ll draw you a bath.”

Tina gave her a half smile.  “I know she’s not your friend, Queenie.  You don’t have to pretend for me.”

Queenie kissed her cheek and suddenly laughed.  

“My lover!  My sweetheart!  My paramour!” she called out as the waltzed across the room.

“You can't have a  _ paramour  _ if you're not married.”  Tina rolled her eyes, but she couldn't help but chuckle.

“But it sounds so pretty,” Queenie said wistfully, shooting a smile over her shoulder as she ducked back into her bedroom.

Tina filled the tea kettle and flicked it onto the stove, lighting an incendio charm beneath it.  Queenie always said that tea made everything better, and she wasn't in a position to disagree.  Tina let two mugs float down from the cupboard.  By the time the water boiled, Queenie was standing at the outside door, waving goodbye to the woman Tina had seen in the bedroom.  She was really quite pretty.  Tina felt something almost akin to jealousy, but she quashed the feeling before Queenie could read it in her thoughts.  That was something to deal with another day.

“I made you tea,” Tina said as Queenie closed the door.

Queenie smiled.  “You’re the best.”

The younger woman took her cup and leaned against the counter, absentmindedly fiddling with the tie of her robe.  Tina took a sip of her tea.  The quiet wasn’t uncomfortable, but she had the pressing feeling that something needed to be said.

“Do you want to tell me about it?” she asked.

Queenie looked up quickly.  “About... _ it _ ?”

“Oh goodness, no, that’s not what I meant.” Tina shook her head.  “You just seem less like yourself today.”

Queenie bit at her bottom lip.  “I’m sorry, I just...I didn’t mean for her to still be here when you got home, Teenie.  I hate it when you’re mad at me.”

Tina took a step closer, lightly stroking the back of Queenie’s hand.  “I promise I’m not mad at you.”

“You’re not happy, though.”

“I’m just worried,” Tina sighed.  “Queenie, it’s been less than a month and I’ve lost count of how many different girls have been in our apartment.”

“Fourteen,” Queenie said suddenly.  Then she blushed.

Tina pursed her lips.  “That doesn’t make me feel any better.”

“I’m sorry.”

Tina couldn’t stand to see her sister looking so dejected.  Queenie was supposed to be easy-going, the kind of girl that laughed off her mistakes and continued on without faltering.  She hated herself for causing her sister’s worry.  Queenie stared into her mug, refusing to meet her eyes.

“You haven’t done anything wrong,” Tina reassured her, and she meant it.  “It’s just that...not everyone thinks that way.  I hear what people say when they find out someone is, um, well that they prefer--”

“I know,” Queenie said, and Tina was thankful to not have to find the right words.  Queenie was always saving her from uncomfortable situations.  Tina wished she could repay the favor; all she seemed to be doing lately was creating them.

“Just promise me you’ll be careful, okay?”

Queenie finally looked up.  “I promise, Tina, I really do.”

Tina smiled.  “So?”

Queenie raised an eyebrow.  “So what?”

“Was she good?”  It just about mortified Tina to say those words, but she had to lighten the mood.  Queenie’s laugh made it all worth it.  The younger woman swatted at her arm.

“You’re ridiculous,” she giggled.  She drained the last of her tea.  “Let me draw you that bath I promised.  Then we can chat.”

Queenie wriggled her eyebrows and Tina couldn’t help but laugh too.


	2. Two for Tea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A last-minute change leaves Queenie in charge of President Picquery's tea, and Queenie can't help but tease a little.

“What is it about them?”  Tina asked, her face and shoulders just visible in a tub that held more bubbles than water.  “I mean...you like men, too?”

Queenie sat upon the sink counter, kicking her feet gently where they dangled down.  She peeked up a little shyly and smiled.

“Well, yeah, but girls are soft.  They smell nice.  They think all these lovely little things about making sure I’m comfortable.”  Queenie giggled.  “You don’t wanna know what goes through a man’s mind when you have him alone in the bedroom.”

Tina tried not to think about how Queenie knew what a man would think in the bedroom.  Mrs. Esposito would have a fit if she found out about all her sister’s lovers.  They were forbidden from having men on the premises.

“I haven’t had any men over lately,” Queenie said in reply to her unspoken thought.  “Mrs. Esposito never said anything about bringing girls home.”

“Mrs. Esposito probably never considered the idea of girl on girl sex,” Tina replied blithely.

Queenie snorted and just about fell off the counter.

“Don’t say that word!” she exclaimed.  “You’re too innocent to say that.”

“I am  _ older  _ than you, Queenie,” Tina chuckled.  “I know a few things.”

That was a lie.  Tina knew about as much about sex as she knew about Himalayan mountain climbing, which is to say that she knew that the practice existed and the general idea of what was done, but the details were quite hazy.  Frankly, she wasn’t terribly interested.  She had enough to worry about with her job and her sister; she didn’t need to think about men too.

“You know sex like I know about working a real job,” Queenie quipped, but she let it slide.

Tina latched on to the mention of work.  It was a subject she was much more comfortable discussing, even if the past couple days had been filled with failure.

“I don’t know how you do it,” she said, glancing up at her sister.  “It’s been one day in the wand permit office and I’m ready to quit and get a job at The Blind Pig.  I don’t know how you’ve kept going there for years.”

Queenie gave a slight smile.  Tina wasn’t one for lavish compliments, but sometimes little bits of praise slipped out in between sage advice and practical orders.  Queenie always felt proudest when her sister acknowledged her strengths.

“It’s nothing really,” she shrugged.  “You get used to it.”

Tina let herself sink back into the water.  She didn’t want to get used to it.  The idea of staying in the wand permit office, spending day after day signing papers and filing certificates, made her feel ill.  She didn’t have much going for her.  She didn’t have Queenie’s looks, or her light-heartedness, or her ability to make others happy.  She couldn’t flirt and she couldn’t really cook.  Her asset had always been her job.  She was the smart one, the ‘career girl’, and she prided herself on that.  When MACUSA took that away, she wasn’t sure what she had left.

Queenie couldn’t help but listen as her sister started to fall down the rabbit hole of existential, self-degrading thoughts.  She knew the look in Tina’s eye.  It was the look of hopelessness.  Queenie often made it her mission to stop that look, to give Tina the hope she needed to keep going.  It was the least she could do.

“Hey now,” she said gently, pulling Tina from her melancholic reverie.  “You’ll be out of there in no time.  You’re one of the best aurors MACUSA has ever seen.  They can’t afford to waste your talents in the wand permit office for long.”

“They didn’t have any trouble sending me away there,” Tina countered.

“Just to teach you a lesson.  They’ll be begging you back in no time.”

“What happens until then?”

Queenie titled her head.  “I make coffee 8 to 4, you stamp papers 9 to 5, and then we come back here.  I make dinner, you take a bath, you read the paper and make fun of me for my romance novels.  Same as always.”

Tina nodded.  

“Same as always,” she repeated.  They made it through.

 

* * *

Queenie bounced up the steps to the Woolworth Building, her curls bobbing with the motion.  She felt more gleeful about coming into work than she usually did.  The fact that Tina considered her job difficult made her want to tackle it, to prove her strength once again as she made it through another day.  She never considered her work to be very hard.  Tina’s approval made it a conquest.

“Good morning, Miss,” greeted the goblin in the elevator.

Queenie smiled back warmly.  “How are you doing, Red?”

She had heard worry in his thoughts the day before.  He had accidentally brought the other people in the elevator to their floor before bringing the president to her’s.  He had been following traditional protocol, stopping at the floors in the order he passed them, but she had given him a withering glare.  Even experiencing the look second hand, Queenie felt her stomach twist.

“Quite fine, thank you Miss,” Red replied.  Queenie felt relief in his thoughts and knew the situation must have worked itself out.  She was happy for him.  Other people’s distress often became her own.

When Queenie reached her desk, she sat with better posture, reviewing her day’s notes with renewed vigor.  She was the best at her job.  Maybe she didn’t do much, and maybe her tasks weren’t all that academically challenging, but she was the only one who could do it like she did it.  

She was just beginning to sift through a pile of papers when the door flung open.  A rather disheveled Graves stood in the doorway, eyes frantically wide.  Queenie just stared up at him.  He was, technically, the boss of the floor, but he was far too important to be in Queenie’s little office area.

“Can I help you, Mr. Graves, sir?” she asked, trying to keep her tone light.

“President Picquery is hosting a tea in half an hour,” he exclaimed.  He was out of breath, a bead of sweat dripping from his hairline to his eyebrow.  It made him look like a madman.  Queenie shook her head in an attempt to process.

“I’m...sorry?” she said, a definite question mark at the end.  His thoughts were too jumbled to read.  All she found was a pervasive feeling of stress.

Graves started plucking at the skin on his bottom lip.  “Miss Helms couldn’t make it in today, which was  _ fine  _ until we remembered about the tea!  President Picquery can’t be expected to serve her own tea!”

Miss Helms had the more prestigious equivalent of Queenie’s job.  She filed papers and unjinxed toilets and fixed coffee, but she did it for the president herself.  Queenie looked up to her a bit.  She had always thought of it as a goal, a sort of promotion, to someday be in her place.  Well, if this was her shot, she wasn’t going to throw it away.

“I can do it, sir,” Queenie said brightly.  She quickly put her papers back in their folder and stood.  “You can tell me the details on the way to the elevator.”

She read a slightly disturbing thought in Grave’s mind about the sex appeal of a woman who takes charge, but she decided to ignore that.  Too many men were after her for different and conflicting reasons.  It was very rare that one actually interested her.  A pretty woman, on the other hand, only had to wink and Queenie was melting.  She knew it gave her a reputation, but she didn’t particularly care.  She just had to stay out of trouble enough to ease her sister’s worries and keep her job.

Just to rile him up a little, Queenie marched out of the office in front of Graves, leaving him trailing behind her like a lost puppy as her heels clicked on the marble floors.  He told her the details as they ascended to the twenty-fourth level.  It was the place specifically set up as a more comfortable meeting environment, usually used when President Picquery needed to shmooze diplomats into getting her way.  Large, expensive armchairs were placed in a semicircle around a dark fireplace.  A coffee table that Queenie imagined cost more than a year of her rent waited empty in the middle.  Queenie was to set the table, create the atmosphere, and serve the tea.  President Picquery would be up in precisely twenty minutes.  The guests would be there in thirty.  Then, Queenie just had to stay out of the way and clear the cups.

“If you can’t handle setting up in twenty minutes, let me know and I’ll find some house elves to help you,” Graves said briskly.

Queenie gave him a dazzling smile.  “That’s plenty of time for me, Mr. Graves.”

He nodded and she caught a wisp of admiration in his mind as he walked away.  It was true.  Queenie had been entertaining since she was little.  Twenty minutes to prepare a glorified tea party was excess, and she was so giddy she was almost shaking.  This was the excitement she was craving.  To be in the same room as President Picquery was an extreme honor, and she couldn’t wait to tell Tina about it, to share her happiness with her sister.  Queenie couldn’t stop grinning.

Her excitement gave her an extra edge and she finished the preparations in under ten minutes.  Queenie stood in the middle of the floor, just admiring her work.  The fire in the fireplace was crackling softly, casting a glow across the wooden floors.  The table was set with a royal purple tablecloth, gold china saucers and cups set out with small plates for sweet treats.  The napkins were rolled perfectly in their holders.  Fresh lilacs bloomed in vases.  It was a room fit for a royal tea.

Seraphina Picquery walked in just as Queenie was starting to boil the water.  Her heart beat faster at the sight of her.  She had seen the president, of course--most people had--but she had never shared a room alone with her.  She looked as regal as ever, a long purple gown gathered at her waist and her hair done up in a matching wrap.  Queenie was suddenly glad at her choice of color scheme.  She quickly transfigured her own clothing into a light lavender dress that hit just below her knee, a lace-trimmed apron around her waist.  Seraphina took in the room, circling slowly as she gazed at it all, then turned to Queenie.

“This is quite lovely,” she said, and Queenie cursed herself for blushing.

“Thank you, Madam President.  If there’s anything you’d like me to change--”

“No, this is wonderful.  Thank you.”

Queenie had never witnessed the president giving such full approval to anyone before.  It made her chest swell.  She found herself at a sudden loss for words and she hastily turned back to the tea water, pretending to check the level of the flame.  The president’s presence made her hyper aware of her every action.

“And thank you for stepping in at the last minute,” Seraphina said to her back.  Queenie quickly turned around.  “I’m sure it wasn’t easy to prepare this with such little notice.”

Queenie wondered if the president’s approval came from the fact that it wasn’t her duty to do this, that she accepted the task readily and without delay.  Maybe she felt she owed her at least her gratitude.  But that would be ridiculous--the president of MACUSA didn’t owe anything to anyone.

“It’s nothing, really.  I’m happy to help!”  Queenie wondered if she sounded too enthusiastic.  She was smiling so hard her face was starting to hurt.

Madam Picquery paced the floor, tugging a bit at her dress and staring out the window.  Queenie sensed nervousness from her, but that would be only natural.  Whatever she was about to negotiate was surely of the highest importance.  Queenie couldn’t help but admire her strength and power.  At least, she thought that was what she was admiring, though she had to admit to herself that the president’s dazzling beauty might have something to do with it.

Queenie couldn’t help herself--she tapped into the president’s mind.  She didn’t mean to pry, but she was so curious about what would occupy the thoughts of a woman of such high power.  If she came across any sensitive information, she told herself, she would back off right away and take the secret to her grave.

Seraphina Picquery wasn’t as easy to read as most people were.  She was obviously trained in shielding her thoughts, but to Queenie’s advantage, she didn’t know Queenie was a Legilimens.  Queenie’s natural gift for the art usually surpassed any blocks, anyway.  It was both a talent and an unfortunate curse.

Queenie listened in.  At first she heard only anxiety, stress about what she would say to her guests and how she could tilt the situation in her favor.  She was thinking about conversation tactics and body language and so many different pieces of legal information that it made Queenie’s head hurt just thinking about it secondhand.  She was so caught up in the official nature of the president’s thoughts that she didn’t realize her hand was sliding on the counter until it came in contact with the flame.  She yanked it back with a yelp.

“Are you alright?” Madam Picquery asked as she whipped around.  Queenie was delighted with the genuine concern in her tone.

“Yes, I’m fine,” Queenie assured her quickly.  “I’m sorry, I just reached a bit too close to the flame.  I’m sorry.”

President Picquery looked her over, intensity in her dark eyes.  “No need to apologize.  I was just concerned you had hurt yourself, Miss--”

“Goldstein,” Queenie offered, her eyes cast downward.

“Miss Goldstein.”

Queenie found she quite liked the way her name sounded coming from the president’s lips.  She looked up at her through her eyelashes, unable to keep herself from playing just a bit.

“Thank you, Madam President.  I was just distracted, that’s all.”

She toyed with the word ‘distracted’, letting it stretch in her mouth.  It was a dangerous game, but Queenie loved the rush of a challenge.  She tuned in carefully to the president’s thoughts.

The same anxiety was there, the practical matters, but there was something else, too.  She felt the way the president was looking at her, heel to head, getting caught just slightly in the curve of her waist and the swell of her breasts--perhaps her chosen attire was a bit too tight, but modesty had never been her strong suit.  Queenie found herself blushing at thoughts she wasn’t supposed to be hearing.

_ God, she’s beautiful _ , Queenie heard, and she suddenly found it difficult to breathe.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if the build-up is slow, but please let me know what you think! I thrive on comments.


	3. A Reason to Stay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Queenie can't help but notice the way their eyes meet, the way neither of them is quite willing to leave. It all feels like a dream.

The first diplomat arrived before Queenie could embarrass herself too much, something for which she was infinitely thankful.  She was intelligent--not as intelligent as Tina, she knew, but smart nonetheless--until it came to romance.  Sure, she was an expert at flirting.  She could have almost any witch or wizard completely smitten in half an hour.  But she was never able to admit that someone was out of her league, a problem that led to a fair share of blush-inducing moments, even if her efforts usually did pay off.  The president of MACUSA was a different story altogether.  Queenie knew she should be staying far away from anything that put Seraphina Picquery and romance in the same sentence.  She knew it, but she couldn’t stop herself.

So when the first man arrived, a rather imposing Englishman with a tightly buttoned suit, Queenie busied herself by enchanting ingredients into a platter of mini-cupcakes and tried to push the president out of mind.  She dusted her confections with sugar, conjuring little gold rosebuds on top, and gingerly laid them on the coffee table.  When the others began to pour through the door--five in total, plus the president, all wearing ridiculously fancy clothes that Queenie couldn’t help but envy--she carefully served the tea.  

She didn’t miss how the president smiled at her.  It wasn’t the tight-lipped smile of forced politeness, nor the gleeful grin of true happiness.  It was something that acknowledged the power imbalance, the fact that Seraphina could look down at her like she was a servant, but it somehow didn’t come across as cruel.  It was fond.  It was appreciative.  It made Queenie shudder.

“Thank you, darling,” Seraphina said as Queenie poured into her cup.

“Quite the assistant you’ve got here,” the Englishman commented.  Something in his voice was too slick, too slimy.  As Queenie squeezed by him to return to the kitchen alcove, she didn’t miss how his hand ‘accidentally’ brushed against her backside.  Queenie pursed her lips.

The president didn’t miss the action, either.  She couldn’t very well say anything: she needed him on her side, but Queenie heard the tone of her thoughts go positively murderous.  Rounding the corner into the little kitchen space, she caught Seraphina giving the man a glare.  Something warm fluttered in Queenie’s chest at the thought of the president protecting her.  She shook her head and tried to shake the feeling away

The alcove wasn’t much separated from the meeting space.  She was out of their way, but she could still see and hear most of what was happening.  She didn’t understand, for the most part.  They were talking in official terminology, voices smooth and gesturing calmly, overall boring enough to lull one to sleep.  

Queenie busied herself by watching Seraphina.  The president had a determined look in her dark eyes, equally captivating and terrifying.  Her lips were painted with a deep plum color.  She pursed them, just a bit, whenever the Englishman spoke.  Queenie couldn’t tell if they had history or if Seraphina just disproved of his general demeanor.  Either way, when Queenie reentered the main space to collect the cups, she avoided walking by him.

Instead, she passed by the president herself, trying to avoid jostling her as she picked up the china and replaced the cupcake platter with a tiered tray of tiny tarts.  Her leg just barely brushed against Seraphina’s.  It was the slightest contact, but it made her blush, and she hastily left the room before she could do anything too foolish.  She spent the rest of the meeting in the kitchen, cleaning the counter several times over just for something to do.

When the diplomats left, Seraphina walked them to the door.  She said pleasant goodbyes--the meeting had gone well, if her tone was anything to judge by--but she didn’t leave.  Instead, the president made her way to the coffee table, starting to pick up the remaining plates.

“Oh, no, I’m sorry,” Queenie said quickly, darting back into the room.  “I was just coming to clean those up.”   


She moved to take the plates from Seraphina’s hands, but the president simply smiled.

“I’m surprisingly free this morning,” she said, taking them into the kitchen.  “I’d like to help you clean up.”

Queenie searched her own mind for the proper protocol in this situation and came up blank.  The president wasn’t supposed to be cleaning up after herself, she knew that, but what was she supposed to do when the other woman was specifically asking?  No one denied the president.  Queenie fidgeted uncomfortably and flicked her wand, folding the tablecloth before trailing after Seraphina into the kitchen.

“Madam President, you really don’t have to do this,” she said.  She took the stack of plates from her and turned on the faucet, charming a sponge to wash the dishes as she gathered up the flower vases.  Her hand slipped on one and it fell, Queenie just barely catching it before it could hit the ground.  “Oh, jeez, I’m sorry.”

Seraphina glanced over at her, a half smile playing at her lips.

“No harm done, Miss Goldstein.  You apologize too much.”   
  
“I’m sorry,” Queenie blurted out before realizing her mistake.

The president only laughed.  It was a high, clear sound, full of warmth and light.  Queenie couldn’t help but smile too.  She was standing in the official meeting area kitchen with the president of MACUSA, calmly washing dishes and putting away vases.  It was all so surreal.

“Actually,  _ I’m  _ sorry,” Seraphina said, leaning back against the counter as she watched Queenie flit around the room.  “I had no idea the English diplomat was such a crude character.”

Queenie caught a flash of residual anger in the president’s thoughts and was quite thankful that it wasn’t directed at her.  She shrugged her shoulders, putting the final vase in the storage box and conjuring a cloth so she could dry the dishes.

“If that was the worst a man had done to me, I’d be overjoyed,” she said.  She meant it lightly, half a joke, but she caught concern in Seraphina’s mind that she immediately tried to quash.  “No harm, no foul.  Well, except him.  He was foul.”

She immediately worried that she had overstepped, but Seraphina chuckled again, her eyes bright.  As Queenie finished drying a dish, she took it from her and waved it into the cabinet.

“I can’t say I disagree,” the president mused.

Queenie again felt tremendous guilt that the president was wasting her time on such a menial task, but Seraphina had made it quite clear that she wanted to stay.  Queenie wanted to look into her mind for the reason, but it felt too invasive, and the president’s thoughts were getting harder to read.  She wondered if the president had realized she was a Legilimens

As the last dish flew into the cabinet, Queenie put down her cloth, turning to face Seraphina.  There was nothing left to do, no reason why they shouldn’t part ways and never speak again, but neither of them moved.  Seraphina looked into her eyes in a way that made Queenie realize how people must feel when she tapped into their minds.  It was a look that went too deep, uncovered everything about her with no magic needed.  She wanted desperately to break it, but she could neither look away nor think of anything to say.

Finally, Seraphina dropped her gaze, looking down at her purple gown

“Well, I feel quite overdressed now,” she said with a chuckle, transfiguring the dress into a pinstriped skirt suit, a long, coat-like robe falling over it.  The new ensemble was no less regal, but Queenie figured the president probably even slept in clothes finer than she would ever even get to try on.  Queenie followed suit, turning her clothes into her previous office attire.

They were out of ways to stall.  Seraphina’s eyes darted around the room, almost as if she was looking for a reason to stay, but she found nothing.  She turned back to Queenie.

“I suppose I should let you get back to your office,” she said reluctantly.  She scanned the room one more time, willing something to pop out that would necessitate the two of them staying longer.  They had done a fine job cleaning up.  Everything was in perfect order.  There was nothing left to do.

Queenie was both a little surprised and a little flattered at the president’s hesitation to leave, but she gave her brightest smile.

“It was a pleasure serving for you, Madam President,” she beamed.  “I hope everything works out.”

“Me too,” Seraphina said.  “Thank you again, Miss Goldstein.”

Queenie drank in the way she said her name, the way her eyes felt when they scanned over her.  She was sure she would never experience either of those feelings again, but it was okay.  Wonderful things always came in small doses.  She had her hand on the door handle when Seraphina’s voice called her back.

“Your sister,” she said suddenly, and Queenie turned around.  “She’s Miss Goldstein, too.”

Queenie nodded, caught a bit off-guard.  “Yes, ma’am.”

“I just made the connection.  Is there something else I can call you?”

Queenie felt that same warm feeling in her chest.  Maybe she was just being kind, but the idea that the president would need to be calling her something in the future made her heart skip.  Their time together had been a dream.  She would take any chance for more.

“My name is Queenie,” she said.

“Queenie,” the president repeated.  “What a lovely name.”

Queenie blushed.  What a lovely person, she thought.  Perhaps a bit more than lovely.  Perhaps completely captivating.  They stared at each other again, the silence once again thick with unspoken words and simmering emotions, and Queenie could tear herself away.

“Well, Queenie,” Seraphina said finally.  “I’m sure I’ll be seeing you again soon.”

Queenie wasn’t sure what that meant, but she nodded anyway, saying a quick goodbye before leaving the room and closing the door, leaving Seraphina behind like some incredibly lucky good dream.   
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still slowly burning, but we're getting there...things might heat up a bit in the next chapter. Please leave feedback if you can, it means the world to me.


	4. Bad Ideas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seraphina and Queenie can't get each other out of their heads.

The comment about having the morning surprisingly free was an outright lie.  As soon as Queenie was out of view, Seraphina all but ran to the back elevators.  She had definitely missed at least one meeting with Graves, a promised response deadline to the Department of No-Maj Affairs, and a review time with the new group of auror recruits.  And for what?  For a pretty girl?

Seraphina Picquery knew four things.

One: there was a very slim chance Queenie Goldstein was a girl like her.  Being the president of the Magical Congress didn’t give Seraphina much time to mess around with romance, but from what she had experienced, her options were disappointingly limited.  Too many young women were scared away by the insufferable meddlings of intolerant people who had no real business in their love lives and pushed themselves in anyway.  Others were swayed by the omnipresent idea that a woman had to find a man to marry, give him 2.5 kids and a white picket fenced yard, give up her own ambitions to better serve his.  Seraphina Picquery had known since she was 10 that she wanted nothing to do with that.  Unfortunately, finding another young woman who felt the same was always a challenge.  And Queenie Goldstein, with her bright, bubbly smile and her soft voice and her bouncing curls...well, she couldn’t be, could she?

Two: pursuing a relationship with any woman, let alone one who worked in the same building, could be disastrous.  Sometimes Seraphina felt more like the principal of a particularly large high school than the president.  Rumors spread quickly and grew into tales that were larger than life.  The president herself having a fling with a female secretary from the Wand Permit Office...well, that would be just too good to keep quiet.  She might even wind up in some kind of disciplinary hearing, though they’d have to fabricate a different reason--loving another woman wasn’t a crime, but it might as well be considering the way that some people acted.

Three: she didn’t particularly care about the consequences.  Being president had given her a sense of her own worth and power.  She didn’t need other people to validate her life, or her relationships, or her emotions.  She had every right to exist as she was, no apologies needed.  If they wanted to make it a scandal, so be it.  She was prepared.  What she _did_ care about was Queenie’s safety.  The other woman deserved only the utmost respect, the right to keep her life private if she chose, a life free from other people’s rude remarks.  Queenie’s well-being came first.

Four: Seraphina did not believe in love at first sight, but my god, Queenie Goldstein had just about made her heart forget how to beat.  She was entranced the moment she saw her.  Queenie’s entire being radiated a soft glow.  When she smiled--that beautiful, bright smile that lit up the room--Seraphina felt herself drawing into it like a moth to a streetlamp.  Suddenly, nothing else mattered.  She would risk political failure to protect her.  She would ignore the million tasks on her schedule just to wash dishes beside her.  There was something about her that reminded Seraphina of Christmas mornings, of the way the petals flew down from the cherry trees in springtime, of dancing to the final love song in a dance hall on a Friday night.  She had the softest, purest warmth that Seraphina had ever seen.  She did not believe in love at first sight--she had to allow herself that little dignity--but whatever she felt for Queenie was so wonderfully similar that she had to wonder.

“What happened?”

Seraphina turned to the sound of the voice, Graves anxiously trotting up beside her as she walked down the hall.  His face was lined with a mix of concern and confusion, his voice only a little too accusatory for her liking.

“I was hosting a tea,” she snapped, glaring at the perceived entitlement in his tone.  “You should know that, you’re the one who brought Qu-- _Miss Goldstein_ up to take over for Miss Helms.”

She huffed a little at herself.  She wasn’t known for making careless slips in her wording.  She had meant to think of a viable excuse while in the elevator, but she had gotten lost in thoughts about Queenie and completely forgotten.  Not that she _owed_ him an excuse.  She was significantly his superior, and if she wanted to, she could tell him that she just didn’t feel like going to their meeting.  He would have to accept that as enough.  Unfortunately, she came across as much too proper to say anything like that without raising suspicion.

“I saw the others leaving, but you didn’t come down,” Graves pried.

“Are you questioning me about my whereabouts, Mr. Graves?” Seraphina said.  There was enough ice in her tone to freeze over the Sahara desert, and Graves couldn’t help but recoil.  That was fine by her.  The man had always annoyed her with his superiority complex.

“No, of course not, ma’am.”

Now he was all tail between his legs, all avoiding her eyes.  She smirked at that.

“You have places to be, I’m sure,” she said, in a way that left no room for argument.  And then, because she did have to remain professional after all, “I’ll send you a letter later to reschedule our meeting.”

Graves scampered off and she wondered if it wouldn’t be too beneath her to send said letter as a Howler.

* * *

When Tina arrived home at 5:15, Queenie hadn’t stopped smiling.  The rest of her day had been entirely dull, perhaps even more so than usual, but the dream-level happiness of her morning had not faded.  She’d arrived home an hour before and immediately set to making dinner.  Now the whole house smelled like chocolate cake, the table set with the finer china and displaying a beautiful array of gourmet sides surrounding a platter of steak and seafood that had cost her an entire day’s pay.  She couldn’t help but sing to herself as she sprinkled the finishing touches.   _I’ll be loving you always...with a love that’s true always…_

“Oh wow Queenie, whatever you’re cooking smells deli--” Tina rounded the corner to their home and stopped short at the sight of the table, so extravagantly decorated that she might have gasped.  “Are we expecting guests?’

“Hmm?”  Queenie peeked her head out of the kitchen, smiling at her sister’s flabbergasted expression.  “Oh, no honey, it’s just for us.  I just had the most marvelous day, that’s all.”

She floated over to her sister, taking her coat and ushering her into a seat.  Queenie usually did try to have dinner ready when she got home, but it always took an extra few minutes, and it was never a meal so grand.  Her sister looked totally in shock.  Maybe she would have to do this more.

Queenie handed Tina a glass of Gigglewater and settled down into her own seat.

“To us,” she toasted with a cheeky grin.  “For making it through.”

Tina couldn’t help but smile too, laughing out loud as she sipped her drink.

“This all looks so wonderful, Queenie.  You outdid yourself.”

Queenie beamed at the praise, tucking into her own plate of food.  She intended to get absolutely stuffed and absolutely drunk, topping off a spectacular day with the kind of indulgement they saved for special occasions.  It definitely _felt_ special.  Queenie felt on top of the world.

“So,” Tina asked in between bites, “what made it so wonderful?”

Queenie was suddenly at a loss for words.  Seraphina Picquery made the day so wonderful, but she didn’t know how to voice that to herself, let alone to someone else.  Just relaying the events couldn’t begin to touch upon all she had felt.  Instead, she chugged her entire glass, giggling uncontrollably for a few moments before refilling it and starting from the beginning.  She told Tina the whole morning as best she could.  She was careful to leave out any details that might suggest anything aside from total professionalism, though.  She wasn’t sure she understood the rest of what happened herself, and she didn’t think that Tina needed to hear her struggle to find the words.  That part would be her secret.

“Wow,” Tina said when she finished.  She was not nearly half as drunk as her sister had become, but she had to admit she was feeling pretty good.  “I'm really happy for you.  You deserve it.”

By the time they finished their meal, Queenie was halfway in hysterics.  She tried to stand to clear the table and fell instantly back into her seat, and Tina couldn’t help but giggle.

“Oh come on now, I’m not trusting you with the fine china when you’re like this.”  She carefully took her sister by the arm, steering her toward the couch.  “And anyway, you cooked.  Just sit here and I’ll take care of it.”

Queenie gave her an impish look.

“Nope!” she teased, yanking Tina back until they were both falling on the floor in a fit of giggles and wonderful light-heartedness, struggling to stand up but never quite making it.  After laughing so hard their stomachs hurt, they lay quiet, staring at the ceiling.

“What do you think is under the headscarf?” Queenie said suddenly.

“What?”

“President Picquery’s headscarf.  What do you think is under it?”

Tina laughed a little.  “What do you mean what’s under it?  Her hair!  How much did you _drink_?”

Queenie shrugged and grinned at the ceiling.

“I bet it’s snakes.  Like Medusa.”

Then they were back to outright guffawing, Queenie’s ribs feeling like they might split in two.

“President Picquery does not have _snakes_ under her headscarf!” Tina exclaimed when she found her breath, gasping from all the laughter.  “You better hope she doesn’t have spies around here to hear you say that!” 

Queenie just giggled, her brain in a foggy haze.  She couldn’t get over how wonderful it felt to just say the president’s name, to bring her up in conversation.  Somewhere beneath all the Gigglewater, she knew she was getting in over her head, but the alcohol was turning it all into a hilarious daze.

“She’d still be pretty even if she had snakes for hair,” Queenie mused.  “She’s so beautiful.”

“We get you drunk enough and you start hitting on the president,” Tina sighed in a fake reprimand, finally getting to her feet.  “What am I going to do with you?”

Queenie gave her a cheeky grin.  “What, I’m not allowed to hit on the president?”

“I think that’s generally frowned upon.”

Queenie stared at the ceiling.  She wasn’t making any promises.

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops, I meant to write them together in this chapter and then it got too long so I had to break it into parts. I'll post the next chapter very very soon though!


	5. Floating

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Queenie finds herself in over her head. Heading into work early turns out to be worth every moment of missed sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's quite late here and I haven't edited this all the way, but I was anxious to post it, so here you are! I'll fix any typos later. As always, thank you so much for the incredibly kind comments--they're great motivation to keep writing.

Queenie woke up feeling like she had taken a hippogriff talon to the temples.  Her head was splitting, the morning sunshine assaulting her senses and making her want to bury back down under the covers to stay.  At least she was in bed.  She had a vague memory of Tina making sure she brushed her teeth, dressed in her nightgown, and got to her room.  God bless Tina for bailing her out more times than she could count.

The old clock on the wall read 6:00am.  Well, she could catch at least another half hour of sleep before having to get up and face the day.  Maybe she’d try another one of her concoctions: Queenie had been trying to perfect a hangover potion for quite some time, and she almost had it down.  The last one had worked wonderfully--aside from the fact that it made everyone’s thoughts three times louder in her mind.  She couldn’t quite stand another day of hearing her boss’ bedroom fantasies at top volume.

And then, somehow, the idea of bedroom fantasies led her to the idea of President Picquery (no, she wouldn’t admit to that train of thought) and suddenly she didn’t want to lay in bed anymore.  She wanted to jump up and get ready and get to work as soon as possible.  She knew it was silly.  The chance of her even seeing the president at all were slim to none, and even if she was able to catch a glance from across the lobby, it would be no more than that.  Still, that was enough to make her feel all giddy again.  She wasn’t sure when she had developed such a  _ crush _ , but it made her feel like she was back in her Ilvermorny days, and now she would do anything for even just a look at President Picquery.

Queenie groaned a bit as she made her way to the shower.  She was getting in over her head.

* * *

 

It was only 7:30 when Queenie arrived at work.  She scanned the lobby carefully, standing in the middle by the statue and pretending to check the Magical Exposure Threat Measurer.  She did have to admit that Severe Unexplained Activity sounded serious, but she couldn’t quite focus on that.  Her eyes swept across the room.  A few wizards in bowler caps were having a heated discussion by the door.  Several people strutted across the floor purposefully, some with a pleasant fire in their eyes, some looking like they’d rather be anywhere else.  A pretty young witch was frowning at her pocket watch on the second step to the staircase.  It was quieter in the early mornings than Queenie thought it would be, and to her disappointment, the president was nowhere in sight.

“Are you quite alright, Miss Goldstein?” a voice said behind her.

Queenie whipped around.  Abernathy.  She repressed a sigh.

“Oh, yes!” she exclaimed instead, because she had yet to find a tactic that disarmed her supervisor more than acting overly excited to see him.  “I just thought I might come in early to get a better look at this...clock?  I didn’t know what ‘severe unexplained activity’ meant, but it sure does sound pretty bad.”

Queenie put on her best puzzled expression.  She knew exactly what it meant: some powerful force was moving around the city, destroying buildings, destroying people.  It came at the exact wrong time, just as the Second Salem group began to rear its ugly head.  But along with being overly bubbly, she found that acting overly ditzy also threw Abernathy off her case every time.

He gave her a condescending smile, placing a patronizing hand on her shoulder.  Queenie fought the urge to brush it off.

“You needn’t worry about that, Miss Goldstein.  MACUSA has it under control.”

That was a total lie and she knew it, but she gave him her best smile, pretending to look reassured.

“I’m so glad to hear that,” she said.

Abernathy patted her shoulder.  “Best for a lovely young thing like you to stay out of it.  All you need to worry about is fixing the coffee on time and pleasing whatever lucky fella you’ve got at home.”

She wasn’t sure if she was more inclined to snort or hex him, so instead she shrugged her shoulder away from his hand and nodded curtly, trying to keep her smile from becoming a grimace.

“Sure thing, Mr. Abernathy,” she said, only the slightest sharp edge working its way into her words.

He didn’t seem to catch a change.  “Don’t worry your pretty head about it too much.  I still expect to see you upstairs on time.”

And then he was gone, and Queenie might have pointed a friendly little curse at his back if there weren’t so many other people around.  She gave a sigh that came out more as a growl and let her smile fall from her face.  There were very few things that bothered her more than being underestimated.

“Queenie?”

The clear, velvet voice had her instantly melting at the same time her heart jumped into her throat.  Queenie nervously tucked her hair behind her ear as she turned around.  Maybe she should have worn a nicer dress, or more perfume, or--

The sight of Seraphina stopped all thought in its tracks.  Queenie wasn’t sure what she had been expecting, but such powerful beauty seemed to belong in a museum of royal statues, not here in the MACUSA lobby.  It wasn’t so much about her style, although her makeup was impeccable and her dress hugged all the right places.  It was the way she stood, the look in her eyes.  Her shoulders were squared and straight.  Her chin tilted just slightly upwards, her gaze piercing through her long eyelashes.  Despite all of that, she looked soft.  Her lips tilted into a slight smile.  She smelled of evergreen trees and rosemary.  Queenie could have just stood there and stared for hours.

“Let me apologize on behalf of Mr. Abernathy.  He unfortunately believes we are still living in the 1800s.”

Queenie had lost all words.  She giggled a little, Abernathy’s comments seeming all the more ridiculous in comparison to the pure strength she saw in front of her.  Seraphina Picquery could reduce him to a weak, stammering mess in seconds.  Then they’d see who should be worrying about serious business and who would be more fit to worry about coffee.

“Madam President--” Queenie started, because it was the only phrase she could manage.  She looked the other woman up and down like she was hoping she’d hold the secret to forming sentences, an ability Queenie had all but lost in her presence.  “I came in early hoping I’d get to see you.”

That wasn’t quite what she’d meant to say.  It had escaped her, a runaway sigh of her true intentions, and she blushed a bit realizing she’d voiced it aloud.  Seraphina only raised an eyebrow, a smile pulling at her lips.

“Oh?”

“I--” Queenie searched quickly for an excuse, but something about the other woman made her desperate to tell the truth.  She was sure Seraphina would know if she was lying, but that wasn’t even it.  It was the warmth that radiated out from her.  She deserved only honesty.  So instead, Queenie ducked her head shyly, peeking up at Seraphina.  

“I didn’t mean to say that out loud,” she laughed, suddenly finding the whole situation purely absurd.  Seraphina looked confused for a second, and then she couldn’t help but chuckle too, and they were both standing in the middle of the lobby laughing in a way that was full of kindness and understanding.

“I’m flattered,” Seraphina said finally, a fond smile playing at her lips.  Queenie was caught off-guard by the gentle affection in her eyes, the way they were still sparkling at her confession.  She wasn’t sure anyone had ever looked at her with so much genuine warmth.

“I’m sorry,” Queenie said, but she couldn’t seem to stop smiling.  “I don’t know what’s come over me.”

“Perhaps you’re still...distracted?” Seraphina offered with a knowing smirk.

Queenie suddenly remembered their exchange the morning before, the way she had flirted, toying with the word in a way that certainly suggested its intention.  She felt heat rise in her cheeks; she was sure that Seraphina hadn’t caught on.  Well, there was no going back now.

“It’s hard not to be,” she said.  It was almost a challenge, a way to say everything she wanted without truly saying anything at all.  It left the power in Seraphina’s hands which, Queenie found, was where she quite liked it to be.

“Oh, I know,” Seraphina pretended to sigh, her expression suddenly coy.  “It’s such a beautiful lobby, isn’t it?  The staircase, the windows, the statues...which part is it, really, that catches your attention?”

Queenie felt her heart pound against her ribs.  She was going to make her say it, wasn’t she?  She should’ve know, really, that Seraphina wouldn’t give into a game so easily.  Queenie bit at her own bottom lip.  The past 24 hours pulled at her mind, a complete blur.  How she had ended up in this situation was beyond her.  She didn’t want to think about it too much.

“I quite like the picture,” she said cheekily, letting her eyes wander up towards it.  It actually was beautiful, an artist’s rendering of the president herself, but it couldn’t compare to the real deal.  Seraphina followed Queenie’s gaze, laughing a little as she realized.

“Is that so?”   


Queenie found she had forgotten how to breathe.  She almost didn’t dare to say anything else, afraid she’d somehow shatter the moment, wake up in her bed to find that she had never really met the president at all.  She knew that wasn’t the case.  Her heart was beating too hard for it to be a dream.

Seraphina understood the silence.  

“Well, if you appreciate portraits so much, perhaps you should join me for lunch,” she said with a smile.  “My office is filled with them.  We can...discuss.”

Queenie could barely speak.

“Yes,” she managed.  “That would be--I would love that.”

Seraphina touched her back, feather-light, and Queenie’s shivered.  She had to know what she was doing to her.  Nothing the president did was a mistake.

“Wonderful,” Seraphina said, calm and perfectly put-together, a complete contrast to everything Queenie felt.  She checked her watch.  “I don’t want to make you late.  May I walk you to the elevator?”

The elevator was only a few yards away, but Queenie would take any time she could get.  She barely remembered how to nod her head.

“Yes, please,” she said.

Queenie marvelled at the way the crowd seemed to part for them.  With Seraphina beside her, there was nothing she couldn’t do.  When they reached the elevator, Queenie carefully stepped in, suddenly feeling unsteady on her feet.

“Thank you,” she murmured, unsure of what else to say.

“I’ll send a note to your office,” Seraphina smiled.  “About lunch.”

Queenie just smiled back, lost in a hazy sense of happiness.  The elevator goblin began to pull the door closed.

“Queenie?” Seraphina called, before the door separated them completely.  “I was quite glad to see you this morning, too.”

Then the door was closing and they were ascending to the fifth floor and Queenie was thinking how unnecessary elevators were at all.  The way she was feeling, she could’ve floated.

 


	6. Of All The Beautiful Things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Queenie isn't sure what she expected when she joined Seraphina for lunch, but everything is beautiful and she couldn't ask for more.

Queenie stood at her office door 15 minutes before noon, a delicate note on flowered paper clutched tightly to her chest.  She was almost afraid of letting it go, afraid it would fly away and she’d lose the only tangible connection to Seraphina she had.  She had read every word over and over until it all blurred in her mind and sounded like poetry.

 

_My dearest Queenie,_

 

_I cannot think of anything I would love more than to share your company at lunch.  Don’t worry about obtaining permission to leave--I’ll take care of everything for you.  I’ll be on the seventy-seventh floor at noon._

 

_Yours truly,_

_Seraphina Picquery_

 

_P.S.  If you have reconsidered for any reason, you need only send this letter back to me and we can forget we ever discussed meeting.  I care about your happiness--and safety--above all else._

 

Nothing on the entire earth or past it could have made Queenie reconsider.  It wasn’t that she hadn’t thought about how odd it might look for a secretary from the Wand Permit Office to be ascending to the president’s private office midday, and it wasn’t that she didn’t know the risks.  It was just that Seraphina was worth any consequences that could come her way.  Even if every moment she spent with the president had to be in secret, she could handle that.

Queenie cast a concealment charm on the note, carefully tucking it into her dress.  She had to trust that Seraphina had dealt with Abernathy.  She wasn’t sure what the president may have told him, but she assumed telling the actual truth would be out of the question.  She only hoped he didn’t ask too many questions.

“Queenie!” Abernathy called out as she walked past him.

Queenie bit back a frown and pivoted around slowly, giving him an innocent glance.

“Yes, Mr. Abernathy?”

“I received a letter from Madam Picquery saying that you would be away for the rest of the afternoon,” he said, barely hiding the confusion in his voice.  “Is everything alright?”

Queenie felt her heart start to pound.  The rest of the afternoon?  It would be too much to think that Seraphina meant to spend all that time with her; she was probably just giving her the time off as a gift.  Still, she couldn’t help but hope.

“Quite fine,” Queenie said breathily.  

She decided to keep it at that.  She didn’t want to mess up her story, and she was anxious to leave, and yes, she was enjoying the air of mystery that surrounded it all.  Abernathy’s lack of knowledge on the situation would drive him crazy.  After his comments in the morning, she couldn’t help but get some satisfaction out of that.  Queenie just smiled at his bewildered look as she walked out of the office, stepped into the elevators, and headed to the highest level.  She was already blushing and she hadn’t even seen the other woman yet...she wondered what she had gotten herself into.

Queenie stepped out of the elevator at the 77th floor, standing still for a moment as the doors closed behind her.  She wasn’t sure what she had expected, but the sight in front of her reminded her that she wasn’t just meeting any woman--she was meeting the president of the Magical Congress.  Once out of the elevator, a visitor to the floor was met with a huge white marble wall, a set of ornately-carved golden doors in front of her.  Two candelabra sconces flickered on either side.  There was a beautiful gold door knocker, shaped like an eagle, but otherwise no lock or handle.  Queenie held it and tapped lightly on the door.

She didn’t have time to worry.  Seraphina was there in a second, her smile beautiful and beaming as the doors quite literally melted away for her.  Queenie stood in shock, trying not to gape.

“Queenie,” Seraphina greeted warmly, gesturing her inside.  “You came.”

Queenie carefully stepped in, turning around to see the doors reform themselves behind her.  She had never seen anything quite as beautiful.  The ceiling was made entirely of glass, the sky above her bright with sunshine and perfect pillowy clouds.  The walls were all the same marble, decorated with candles and tapestries and art.  She was standing in what appeared to be a living room, soft couches and chairs around a fireplace with countless bookshelves bearing more titles than a person could read in ten lifetimes.  Seraphina gently put a hand on the other woman’s waist, facing her but keeping a respectable distance.  That didn’t make it any easier for Queenie to breathe.

“Of course I came,” Queenie managed.  “I wouldn’t miss it for anything.”

Seraphina smiled and Queenie decided that out of all the magnificent things around her, Seraphina was by far the most beautiful.  Seraphina was taller than she was, and Queenie tilted her head to look up at her, trying to memorize all the angles of her face, the color of her eyes.  She was still afraid she might wake up.  If this was going to be a dream, she at least wanted to remember it.

“Do you want me to show you around?  It’s quite absurd, I’m afraid, how much space they thought I’d need to work.” Seraphina gestured with her free hand.  “It’s rather beautiful, though.”

“You’re beautiful,” Queenie breathed, before she could stop herself.  She could feel the heat creeping into her cheeks.  Something about Seraphina made her lose any filter she had, and she couldn’t stop saying the first thing that came into her head.  Luckily, Seraphina didn’t seem to mind.  She held Queenie’s waist with just a bit more pressure, looking down at her with bright eyes.

“As are you,” she murmured.  “Though I’m sure you already knew that.”

Queenie bit at her bottom lip, trying to stop herself from doing anything too impulsive.

“I’d love to look around,” she said, carefully watching her words.  She remembered their joke from the morning.  “You were going to show me your portraits.”

“Well now, I usually wait until at least the second date before showing anyone my... _portraits_ , but I suppose I could make an exception.”

Seraphina raised her eyebrow, just a bit suggestively, and Queenie was caught somewhere between an urge to laugh and a desperate urge to just reach up and kiss her.  She ended up giggling, if only because it was the safer option, and Seraphina stroked her thumb against her waist.  Queenie suddenly realized what the other woman had said.

“Is this a date?” she asked.

Seraphina suddenly flushed, looking away like she was unable to meet Queenie’s eyes.  She stammered on her words.  “I didn’t mean--well, I did, but--if you don’t want to--”

“I do,” Queenie assured her.  There was something incredibly charming about seeing the other woman so flustered.  She might have held the most powerful position in the wizarding world, but she was still just a person, still embarrassed by pretty girls and the idea of dates, and Queenie had the impulse to hug her for that.  She settled for reaching out instead, taking Seraphina’s hands in hers.  It felt wonderful just to feel the warmth of her skin.

Seraphina glanced up, finally meeting her eyes.  “So you really were flirting yesterday.”

It was Queenie’s turn to blush.  “Maybe.”

“I do try to block my thoughts, but I’m afraid you must have heard that I didn’t exactly mind.”  Queenie gave her an apologetic smile and Seraphina laughed warmly.  “It’s my fault.  I didn’t realize you were a Legilimens at first.”

“It’s nothing I tried to learn, it just happens.  It’s always been like that.”

Seraphina let go of one of Queenie’s hands and reached up to gently brush her cheek.  “That’s quite impressive, you know.”

The tension in the air was electric, and Queenie’s heart began to flutter in the her chest.  She wanted so badly to just lean in and close the gap.  The way Seraphina was looking at her was full of admiration and affection, but it was the desire in the look that made Queenie blush.

Seraphina bit her lip and dropped her hand, physically taking a step away to break the trance.  Queenie wanted to kiss her more than anything, but she understood.  Seraphina would be careful about moving slowly.  She really, genuinely cared that Queenie was okay with everything, never wanting to overstep and make her uncomfortable.  Queenie didn’t think she had ever been treated with so much tenderness and respect.

“I thought I might take you out this afternoon,” Seraphina said, coming back to her senses.  “There’s a beautiful little restaurant next to Central Park, tucked away enough to be quiet.”

Queenie smiled.  “That sounds wonderful.”

“We could eat and then go for a walk, maybe get dessert somewhere, or see a show, or…” Seraphina trailed off, suddenly unsure.  “I mean, if you want to, of course.  I told your office that you’d be out for the rest of the day, but if you’d rather just go home, I completely understand.”

“I want to be with you,” Queenie said.  “As long as possible.”

Seraphina nodded, and Queenie wondered if she was imagining her blush.

“Well, I cleared my schedule for tonight, so…”

Queenie looked up, the full reality of the situation starting to hit her.  The president of MACUSA had cleared her schedule to spend time with her.  It must have taken ages, rearranging all the important meetings and deadlines, and she did it for her.  She wanted to spend time with her.  Queenie could barely comprehend that.

“You didn’t have to do that for me,” she faltered.  “I’m really nothing special, I don’t have any real skills or talents, I don’t even have a lot of money, or--”

Seraphina was standing so close to her that Queenie could feel the heat radiating out from her body, and she suddenly entirely forgot how to speak.  Seraphina carefully brought a hand up to her face, running her thumb lightly from her cheekbone to her chin and gently across her bottom lip.  Her other hand held Queenie’s hip, the pressure soft and comforting.  Queenie took in a sharp breath.

“You are everything special,” Seraphina murmured.  She searched Queenie’s eyes carefully.  “I know we just met, and we haven’t truly been on a date yet, but...would it be alright if I--”

“Yes,” Queenie breathed.

And then Seraphina’s lips were on hers, soft as satin, somehow both gentle and blissfully passionate, and Queenie was thinking that if paradise existed, it probably felt exactly like this.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This wasn't where I meant to go, but it's where I ended up and I'm quite alright with that. Please leave a comment if you have time, I love hearing your opinions!


	7. A Thousand Kisses

Seraphina couldn't remember ever feeling quite this nervous...not when she met with the world’s most important diplomats, not when she signed controversial laws, not even at her own inaugural ball.  Nothing she had ever experienced could have prepared her for this: a leisurely walk down 5th Avenue, Queenie Goldstein by her side.  

The other woman was a wonder.  She almost seemed to float as she walked, her smile blindingly bright and her voice like a summer breeze when it fell upon Seraphina’s ears.  Seraphina desperately wanted just to hold her hand, but she knew better than to do that in public.  Instead she walked as close to Queenie as possible, their arms just barely brushing.  It was enough to put a force in the air that had little to do with magic.

“Over here, darling,” Seraphina said, stopping in front of the restaurant doors.

She’d always liked this place, sometimes daydreamed about bringing a girl here with her.  The awning was a delicate shade of lilac, ivy growing up either side of the arch, the door carved out of crystal.  Inside, countless flowers bloomed, pops of color among the tiny tables trimmed with lavender lace and flickering candles.  Seraphina beamed at the look of wonder in Queenie’s eyes.  She held the door open, following Queenie inside.

“A table in the back, please,” Seraphina requested, stepping up toward the host.

He nodded.  “Anyone joining you?”

“No, just the two of us.”

Just the two of them.  She could get used to that.  She couldn't get over how much happiness she felt just being around Queenie, just being close enough to discreetly squeeze her hand.  When Queenie smiled, suddenly the world felt perfectly in line.  Everything was exactly as it should be.  Seraphina couldn’t remember the last time she felt like this, like everything would truly be okay.

They were seated in an alcove in the back of the restaurant, a perfect little space all to themselves.  Here they wouldn’t have to worry; prying eyes couldn’t reach them.  Seraphina helped Queenie out of her coat and hung it on the hook beside their table, gracefully letting her own cloak fall off her shoulders and letting her guard fall with it.  Something about Queenie made her want to be as open as possible.  She was barely sure she even remembered how to let another person into her life like that, but she was willing to give it her all.

Queenie was gazing around the room, her eyes wide and bright as she tried to take in the full picture of the moment.  Seraphina wanted to look around, too, just to engrave every detail on her memory, but she couldn’t manage to look away from Queenie.  It struck her that she didn’t care about the decor or the food or the setting at all--as long as Queenie was sitting across from her, she couldn’t be happier.

Queenie caught her staring and smiled shyly.  “Madam President, I--”

“Oh goodness,” Seraphina said, drawn back to reality by the title.  “You don’t need to call me that, darling.”

Queenie blushed, her heart fluttering at the nickname.  “Seraphina, this is--it’s just all so wonderful.  I think I might be dreaming.”

Seraphina reached across the table, entwining their fingers, caressing the soft skin on the back of Queenie hand.

“Does this feel real?” she asked gently.

“Yes,” Queenie breathed, caught by the feeling of Seraphina’s hand in hers.  “And before, we really...I mean, kissing you, that was real?”

Seraphina laughed lightly.  “Yes, that was real.”

Queenie gave her a grin.  “We might have to try that again--you know, just to make sure.”

Seraphina felt a warmth spreading through her chest, her cheeks just a bit flushed.  “A thousand times, if that’s what you want.”

“Don’t tell me that,” Queenie smiled, “or I might never stop kissing you.”

Seraphina thought that would be quite alright with her.  She hadn’t meant to be so impulsive, to fall so quickly for a girl she barely knew, but she couldn’t help herself.  Every word Queenie said brought her deeper in.

“I think I wouldn’t mind that,” Seraphina said, suddenly feeling a bit breathless.  She took a second to collect herself, trying to clear her head, trying to stay composed.  “But we’re moving so quickly, and I don’t want to miss anything in the rush.  Do tell me more about yourself--you have such a beautiful way of thinking, I love just listening to you speak.”

Queenie blushed.  She was used to compliments about her appearance, but very rarely did anyone bother to go past the surface.  The fact that Seraphina even bothered to notice her mind, let alone appreciate it, made Queenie feel almost euphoric.

She told her her story, as best she could.  She talked about her parents and her years at school and sharing an apartment with Tina.  Seraphina was genuinely listening, genuinely curious, and Queenie wasn’t sure anyone had ever been so attentive.  Even Tina’s attention usually wavered.  Seraphina was gazing at her, holding on to every word in a way no one had before.

“I just think every day is worth celebrating, you know?  I’m trying to make my life as full as possible, get everything I can from it.  And lately...well, I’ve had a whole lot of reasons to smile.  And they all seem to come back to you.”

Seraphina squeezed her hand.  “I could say the same, my dear.  You’re absolutely amazing.”

The waiter returned to their table, ready to take their orders, and Queenie reflexively jerked her hand away to hide it in her lap.  Seraphina tensed for a moment, quietly folding her own hands on the table.  She had to remember that Queenie didn’t have the same power she did.  It was natural that she would need to be discreet.  Seraphina respected that--she just tried to not look too crestfallen.

“I’ll have the endive salad and a cup of soupe aux chataignes,” Seraphina said to the waiter.  She handed him her menu and tried to ignore the tremor that had found it’s way into her voice.

“I’ll have the same,” Queenie requested, mostly because she had forgotten to look at the menu at all.  It wouldn’t have mattered.  Everything was gourmet with foreign titles, fancier than anything she was used to.  She trusted Seraphina’s judgement.

The waiter turned away and Queenie glanced at Seraphina, noticing a look in her eyes that she was desperately trying to hide.  Her thoughts were audible for the first time that day, though Queenie was sure she didn’t intend for them to be heard--strong emotions always surpassed any mental blocks.  She had interpreted Queenie’s action as a fault of her own.  She thought she might have pushed her too far, or not been careful enough about keeping their privacy, and she was starting to pull away.  She was so intent on not hurting Queenie that it would have been endearing if it wasn’t causing her so much inner turmoil.  Queenie bit her lip.  

“I’m used to keeping it a secret,” she explained carefully.  “Tina always said I had to be careful, that I could lose my job if people knew.  Now I know that’s not true, but it was just a habit to hide.”

Seraphina met her eyes, her expression softening.  “Queenie, you don’t have to explain yourself to me.  I just want you to be comfortable and--and happy.”

“I’ve never been happier,” Queenie said tenderly.  She reached back across the table, gently pulling Seraphina’s hand into her own.  “There’s nothing I want more than to be holding your hand.  It’ll just take some getting used to, that’s all.”

“You’ll tell me if anything makes you uncomfortable?” Seraphina asked.  Her focus was caring but intense, a testament to the amount this mattered to her.

“Of course.”

“I mean it.  Just because I have a certain job doesn’t mean--”

Queenie leaned across the table, pressing her lips against Seraphina’s and stopping her mid-sentence.  She was content, for the time, that no one was around, and she didn’t pull back right away.  She waited until the tension melted away from Seraphina’s lips, until the other woman gently responded, before she carefully drew back into her seat.

“I promise,” Queenie murmured.

It took a second before Seraphina could respond, dazed back into the dreamlike wonder of kissing Queenie Goldstein.  

“I just care about you so deeply,” she said finally, letting the words tumble from her mouth before she had a chance to process them.  “I don’t know that I’ve ever met someone as wonderful as you.”

Queenie smiled, her fingers weaving through Seraphina’s, taking a moment to just gaze at the woman across from her and study the curves of her fingers, the color of her eyes.  She couldn’t imagine how she had gotten so incredibly lucky.  She felt vulnerable, her feelings laid out in front of her, but Seraphina had done the same, and now they could rest comfortably in the sensational truth of it all.

“Seraphina?” Queenie asked.

The other woman looked up.  “What is it?”

“I’m starting to believe this is real.”

Seraphina laughed warmly, her feelings for Queenie so big and wonderful that she thought she might burst with the joy of it.  “I was wondering how long it would take.”

Queenie giggled.  “Do we still get to kiss a thousand times, though?  ‘Cause otherwise I could pretend to not know for sure.”

“You’re insatiable,” Seraphina teased.  She placed a gentle peck on the back of Queenie’s hand.  “Don’t worry, that one doesn’t count toward the thousand.  You’re just too charming to resist.”

Queenie flushed, unable to stop the grin pulling at her lips.  “And what happens after a thousand?”

“I turn back into a pumpkin?” Seraphina laughed.  “I’m only joking, darling.  I could never say no to you.”

And after they finished their lunch--after Seraphina had paid the tab and thanked the waiter and helped Queenie into her coat--they stepped back into the world outside, and Seraphina thought that the sun looked brighter when Queenie Goldstein was beside her, and she thought that a thousand kisses may never be enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm making up for the slow pace with vast amounts of romantic fluff...thank you so much to everyone who comments, it really encourages me to write and get these chapters out to you faster <3 And thank you to everyone who reads in general, I hope you're enjoying reading it as much as I'm enjoying writing it.


	8. Secrets

It was slowly turning to night as Seraphina and Queenie exited the movie palace, the younger woman holding onto Seraphina’s arm and giggling with girlish glee.  The stars were becoming visible, twinkling gently, matching the sparkle in Queenie’s eye.  Seraphina delighted at seeing her so happy.

“It was supposed to be a tragedy, you know,” she teased, a smirk playing at her lips.

“It was so _ridiculous_ ,” Queenie gasped.  Between spells of laughter, she tried to catch her breath, never quite successfully.  Seraphina watched her with amusement.

“Typical men...a pretty woman comes along and everyone loses their minds, a few people die, and somehow it’s all her fault.”

Queenie tugged lightly on Seraphina’s arm.  “Does that happen to you often?”

Seraphina smiled playfully.  “Only occasionally.”

“‘Mademoiselle--’” Queenie quoted, laughing as she tried to make her voice sound deep and french, “‘--will you think me too bold - if I ask to see your face?’”

She gave Seraphina a dramatic look before wriggling her eyebrows and dissolving into another fit of giggles.  Seraphina stopped walking, grinning as she placed her hand on Queenie’s back to stop her from toppling off her high heels.

“Oh, I think that’s _exactly_ what that line was supposed to sound like,” she joked.

Queenie steadied herself against Seraphina, indulging for just a minute in the feeling of Seraphina’s hand on her shoulder, her own back pressing softly against Seraphina’s chest.  The evening air was a bit chilly, but the other women was perfectly warm.  She could have guessed as much.  Someone with such a beautifully caring demeanor could never be cold to the touch.

“It’s getting late,” Queenie said.

Seraphina looked up at the sky, almost as if she was noticing it for the first time.

“I hadn't realized.”  She moved so she could face Queenie, drawing the younger woman closer to her, almost absentmindedly placing a hand on her waist.  “I suppose I should let you get home.”

Queenie nodded regretfully.  “Tina will get worried if I’m not back.”

Seraphina let her hand drop from Queenie’s side, instead taking Queenie’s hands in her own.  “I had a wonderful time today.”

“Me too.  Thank you for--well, for everything.” Queenie smiled, looking just a bit shy.  “I'm so happy, I hardly know what to say.”

Seraphina smiled back reassuringly.  “You’re an absolute dream, Queenie Goldstein.”

They stayed like that a moment.  Queenie found herself once again at a loss for words, but the silence was comfortable.  She carefully studied Seraphina’s face, amazed at the beauty she saw in front of her, almost unable to believe anything that had happened that afternoon.

“I don’t want to say goodbye,” she said finally, gazing from Seraphina’s eyes down to their joined hands.

Seraphina spoke gently.  “It won’t be long.  You know where to find me.”

“What if everything is different tomorrow?”  Queenie shuffled her feet.  She didn’t have any reason to assume that Seraphina would want to see her again.  Even if they did meet up, they couldn’t act like this at work.  It was a cold realization against the warmth of the night.

“Everything is always different,” Seraphina murmured, “but that doesn’t mean it’s bad.”

“Then tomorrow will be the good kind of different?” Queenie asked.

“The best kind of different,” Seraphina smiled.  “Now I have you.”

Queenie couldn't help but blush.  She looked around quickly--the street was empty, just the two of them alone in the moonlight.  She leaned up on her toes and placed a hand on Seraphina’s cheek, kissing her in the soft and easy way that expected an endless future of time together.  She took one last moment to really memorize the feeling of Seraphina so close to her.  Then Queenie stepped back and, with a final goodbye, disapparated into the night.

* * *

 

When Queenie opened the apartment door, she immediately noticed two things.  One: Tina was all sorts of anxious, wringing her fingers and pacing the floor as she waited for the tea water to boil, and two: the minute she saw Queenie, Tina frantically tried to look calm.  Unfortunately for her, fooling a Legilimens was next to impossible.  Queenie carefully hung up her coat.

“Bad day?” she asked gently.  She thought of the last song she'd heard on the radio, trying hard to tune out her sister’s thoughts.  She knew Tina hated when she read her mind.

“I'm fine,” Tina said.  Her voice wavered and she quickly cleared her throat.

“Teenie…”

“I’m _fine,”_ she insisted.  She turned away from the stove.  “You're home late.”

Queenie paused; she hadn't thought this through. She never kept anything from her sister.  If Queenie could listen to all of Tina’s secrets, it only seemed fair that Tina would know hers too.  She hardly ever had anything too big to share.

The last time had been a year and a half earlier.  Queenie had been standing in the living room nervously stitching a dress, waiting for Tina to get home.  Queenie was known for her sewing ability, but that night the thread kept tangling and the lines were coming out all wrong, and she just couldn't think right.  It was the night she had made things official with a young witch she'd been seeing.  She knew she had to tell Tina--there was no more putting it off.

Even then, certain that her secret would change her relationship with her sister forever, she was determined to tell it.  Honesty was among her virtues, at least when it mattered, and she wanted Tina to know.  She just had to gather the courage first.

Tina had walked through the door to find Queenie almost shaking as she tried to sew a seam for the fifth time.

“Are you alright?” she asked, clearly alarmed.

Queenie had swallowed and nodded quickly, the spool of thread dropping from her grip and falling to the floor.  “I--I need to tell you something.”

Tina’s brow furrowed, but she walked over to her sister, bending down to pick up the thread.  When she stood, her eyes were full of concern.  

“Are you sick?” she had asked.

That had always been their biggest fear.  After their parents died, they made a point to keep each other healthy, the idea of losing someone else to illness completely unbearable.  

Queenie had shaken her head.

“No, it's not a bad thing.  Well, I don't think it's bad.”  She could barely force out words.  “You might think so.”

She was twisting the needle around in her fingers, the sharp end piercing her skin, but she barely seemed to notice.  Tina carefully took it from her and placed it on the table.  She covered Queenie’s hand with her own.

“It’s okay, Queenie.  What's going on?”

Queenie had avoided her eyes, staring at a mark on the table instead.  “I'm, um...I’m seeing someone...in a romantic way.”  She took a deep breath that shook in her lungs.  “Her name is Clara.”

“Okay,” Tina said.

“Okay?”  Queenie looked up quickly.  “You're not upset?”

“Why would I be upset?”

“She's--she's a girl, and I'm a girl, and--”

“Shh, it’s okay.”  Tina had patted Queenie’s hand.  “I'm not upset...or even surprised, really.  I've figured you might be--well, I've known for a while that you look at girls the same way you look at men sometimes.  It doesn’t change anything.”

Then Queenie was crying, big tears falling down her cheeks, and Tina was awkwardly patting her back as she cried.

“Come here,” she had said, pulling Queenie up and into a hug.  “Why are you crying?”

“I was so scared to tell you,” Queenie had sobbed, “and now I feel so much better.”

There hadn't been anything since that warranted such nervousness.  All of her secrets had seemed small in comparison.  Even when she and Clara had parted ways a month ago, and Tina had found her with a multitude of different girls, it didn't seem to matter.  But this--the idea that she had been on a date with the president of the Magical Congress--well, that was big.  And she had to protect Seraphina’s privacy as much as her own.

“Queenie?” Tina asked, pulling her out of her memories.

Queenie shook her head.

“I just lost track of time,” she said.  At least that wasn't a lie.  She would have to tell Tina the full truth sometime, and soon, but right then she couldn't find the words or the way.

“Okay…” Tina said, and Queenie knew she wasn't buying it.  “You know you can tell me anything?”

Queenie bit her lip.  “Of course.”

“I know I acted upset the other day, but I didn't mean you had to hide anyone from me.  I'd rather know that you're here and safe than have you go to someone else’s apartment, or one of those seedy motels, or--”

“Tina, I wasn't--I wasn't doing that,” Queenie said.  The image of her and Seraphina checking into a dingy motel room almost made her laugh.

“Then where were you?”

“I went to a movie.”

“Alone?”

Queenie fidgeted with her bracelet.  “No.”

The whistle of the kettle pierced the air, making them both jump.  Tina waved two cups down from the cupboard, placing a tea bag in each, and poured the water with a shaky hand.  She handed Queenie a cup.

“I know you can take care of yourself.  I just can’t stop myself from worrying.”  Tina took a sip of her drink and frowned.  “Abernathy said that you left early this afternoon.”

“Oh,” Queenie said.  She avoided Tina’s eyes.

“He said that you had written permission from Madam Picquery herself?”

Queenie nodded slowly.  “Yeah, that was true.”

“I’m not trying to keep tabs on you, Queenie, but that I can’t pretend that I’m not concerned.  Can’t you just tell me what’s going on?”

Queenie glanced away, setting her cup on the table next to her.  “Please don’t be mad, honey--or worried--but...I need a little time.  I promise I’ll tell you everything soon.  I just need to understand it myself first.”

Tina’s brow furrowed.  “Is it something bad?”

“No,” Queenie reassured her.  “Everything’s okay.  Can you just trust me for a little while?”

“Of course I trust you,” Tina said.

Queenie gave her a small smile.  She would have to find a way to tell her, but for now, her time with Seraphina was only hers--a little surreal, a little crazy, and by far the most amazing feeling Queenie had ever known.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The film they were watching is The Temptress (1926). As always, thank you for reading, and let me know what you think if you have the time!


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